Fate
by Traxits
Summary: A skinny redhead in the corner wouldn't have caught Tseng's attention normally. Not beyond a simple glance and maybe the passing thought that he needed to cut his hair.


**Title**: Fate  
><strong>Author<strong>: Traxits  
><strong>Fandom<strong>: Final Fantasy VII  
><strong>Rating<strong>: General audiences  
><strong>Content Notes<strong>: Chose not to use notes/warnings.  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 668 words.  
><strong>Summary<strong>: A skinny redhead in the corner wouldn't have caught Tseng's attention normally. Not beyond that simply glance and maybe the passing thought that he needed to cut his hair.  
><strong>Author's Note(s)<strong>: Written for "Three Weeks for Dreamwidth."

**[[ ... One-Shot ... ]]**

A skinny redhead in the corner wouldn't have caught Tseng's attention normally. Not beyond that simply glance and maybe— maybe— the passing thought that he needed to cut his hair.

But Tseng was in the bar on business, and everyone there could tell. They shrank from him, from the intensity that he wore as he walked on in, his black eyes roving over their faces, looking for the one idiot who had dared sell bad information to the Turks. To Veld. Tseng's hand had been close to his gun already, ready to put that fool down like a dog. He didn't have time to look over at some skinny redhead who's threadbare clothes hardly had enough fabric left on them to be called clothes.

He was the only one in the bar who didn't lean away from Tseng. That was impressive enough, but the fact that when Tseng turned on his heel, ready to leave to check the next place, the redhead pushed off of the wall and stepped in between Tseng and the door... That was enough to get Tseng's attention, to make him really look the redhead over. There was a grin almost too wide for the face spread over those lips, eyes that practically glowed the same color as the mako pumping through the reactors. The pupils were narrow. He was high.

"Move," Tseng ordered. He didn't have to raise his voice, even if he did have to tilt his head back to look up at the man.

"Lookin' for Gray, aren'tcha?" Red hair spilled over a bony shoulder as he looked Tseng over. Tseng didn't miss the way those green eyes lingered on the gun in Tseng's hand. "He knows you're lookin' for him."

Someone grabbed at the redhead's arm, hissing, "Reno, shut your damned mouth—"

But 'Reno' didn't even look back at them. Instead, he simply leaned forward, invading what personal space Tseng managed to keep around him when he was under the slums. There was no fear in those eyes. He was either very brave, or incredibly stupid. Tseng couldn't exactly tell which. He could smell cologne though— multiple types— and there was a certain look of... resignation on that face. Something that Tseng had seen far too often to be moved by.

"You have information for me?" Tseng asked, not even looking at the rest of the patrons in the bar, not letting himself be distracted. Reno licked his bottom lip, his teeth tugging on it briefly before he smiled. Tseng had the strangest sensation that Reno was planning on _working him_. He kept his expression perfectly neutral.

"Depends, Turk," and there was a reverence in the way he said that word, a respect that Tseng didn't always hear, "on whether or not you're gonna pay me for it."

"What's your price?" Tseng could probably swing whatever indulgence the redhead asked. Probably do it without much concern. He still had bribe money from the Turk accounts in his pocket.

Another lick, this one slower. He was coming down from the high, Tseng decided, as he watched some tension beginning to build in Reno's body. He was becoming aware of just what situation he was in. There was the faintest light of fear then, but it was smothered by the determination, the simple idea that he had committed to it. Tseng liked that.

"Buy me a beer," Reno said then, and they looked at one another for a heartbeat. Two.

"Show me where he is, and we'll discuss your payment." Tseng watched Reno's face as he turned the phrase over, clearly analyzing it, trying to determine if he could trust Tseng.

"If I kill him," Reno was speaking slowly now, drawling out the words, weighing them, "will you buy me a beer upstairs?"

A smile touched Tseng's lips, and he knew that it wasn't pleasant. "If you kill him, you and I will have a lot to discuss."

Reno's grin was slow, but it was just as unpleasant as Tseng's smile.


End file.
